


Connections

by LtLJ



Series: Hunting Parties Series [7]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Character of Color, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-07
Updated: 2007-12-07
Packaged: 2017-10-03 07:54:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LtLJ/pseuds/LtLJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When they cut John down from the railing of the operations gallery, he was so numb he barely felt the impact from the ten foot fall. He lay there like a bag of laundry, his body a mass of needle-like pinpricks from returning circulation. John thought about trying something, but his wrists were still tightly bound with cords. And the Kerans still had guns on Grodin, Laroque, and Chuck, and the Athosian boy Ilar. Just wait for it, he told himself. He just wished he knew what Vanrin had in mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Connections

Vanrin knew something was wrong when it was Chuck who answered the radio call, not Dr. Grodin.

The storm season had finally ended, signaling the change in weather that would allow the Atlanteans to return to resume their excavation of the Ancient power station. Vanrin, Banat, and a group from the men's tribe had come to the Ring of the Ancestors to call Atlantis and let them know, and to take their place as garrison for the ring, to make sure no Isveni returned to Tasiben. It was late afternoon by the time they arrived, but fortunately the sky was an even dusty brown, with no sign of even mild storms. Vanrin found the weather balmy, but the wind was whistling through the rocks surrounding the ring and he knew that John and the others would think it cool here.

Shinabi, Telani, and some of the other women who had been acting as the ring garrison were waiting around to hear the result of the call. "They will probably not be able to come immediately," Vanrin reminded them, while he hit the correct symbols on the ring's post. "It may take some days to arrange their journey here."

"Invite them anyway," Shinabi called to him, from where she was lounging in the rocks. "If they can come, we will have a party." No one, friendly or unfriendly, had tried to come through the ring while the women had been guarding it this season, and they were bored, and anxious for the diversion the Atlanteans would provide. Vanrin had to admit that he was very anxious for that, too.

But when the blue pool of connection had formed, and Vanrin had pressed the correct controls on the little radio, it was Chuck's voice who answered.

"Right, Vanrin, about the grain harvest," Chuck said quickly. For such a small device, the radio transmitted voices very clearly, and Vanrin was startled to hear anxious fear in Chuck's tone. "We can't trade for that today, uh-- We-- We don't have the fish available yet. In the meantime, if you--" There was some noise in the background, an unfamiliar voice. Chuck finished hurriedly, "We'll contact you when we do. Atlantis out."

The connection was cut, and Vanrin stared at the radio. Banat saw his expression and asked, "What did Peter say?"

"It was the young one; Chuck, not Peter." Vanrin shook his head, unwilling to believe what must be happening. "Something is wrong. He spoke of trade for a grain harvest, and fish." Whatever fish were. "He has given us a warning that he could not speak freely, that it was not safe there."

"Because someone is listening..." Banat finished that thought and looked appalled. "Because they are invaded?"

Vanrin felt helpless. Chuck had tried to say more, but had been forced to stop speaking. It might be a mistake, but Chuck had made it plain he knew it was the Tasiben calling, he had spoken Vanrin's name, and nonsense about harvests. The warning seemed clear. It was terrible, but true.

The others gathered around. Telani said, "But who could invade them? Not the Isveni?"

Shinabi added gravely, "Not the Wraith. No one would be there to speak."

Vanrin motioned them to be silent. He needed to think. "Someone has caught them by surprise, someone with strong weapons. Or someone has taken hostages and forced their way into the city." _John,_ he thought in sick despair. John was first among the Atlantean warriors; if he was there, he was dead or a prisoner. If he was exploring some other world, Vanrin had no way to know where, or to warn him. "We have to find some way to help them."

Banat looked at the ring, and made a helpless gesture. "We cannot go to their world. Whoever holds their ring will close the barrier on us."

Meran pointed out another practical difficulty: "Even if we could get through their ring alive, if these invaders have weapons that have conquered the Atlanteans, we cannot attack them head-on."

Shinabi was watching Vanrin intently. "We cannot walk away. If we were attacked, they would come to help us."

Of course they couldn't walk away. Vanrin saw only one course of action. "We cannot go to Atlantis after the invaders." He looked at the radio thoughtfully. "So we must make the invaders come here."

  
***

  
It had taken them a little time to make adequate preparations, and now the sun was starting to set, throwing the rocky clearing around the ring into shadow. But Vanrin had not wanted to call again until everything was as ready as could be; he had no intention of letting this go awry.

"I think you need to work out what you are going to say in more detail," Shinabi said, as she readied another torch.

"I think you are not in charge of this part of the plan," Vanrin told her with some asperity.

"I think you are going to wreck this."

"I think both of you should shut up," Banat interrupted. "Are we ready?"

Vanrin grimaced, looking at the ring. "As best we can be."

As he went to the dialing post, he realized they were none of them used to this, this feeling of helplessness. Others who traveled through the ring extensively must grow accustomed to stepping through to visit some community of friends, and finding them dead or vanished. Atlantis had seemed so powerful, so well-guarded, that such a thing could happen to them would never have occurred to him. He didn't want to think about what might have happened if the weather had not turned early, if the tribe had decided to wait a few more days to travel to the ring.

All the garrison of the women's tribe was now here, along with the men's garrison, and they had their own bows and the remaining weapons the Isveni had left behind. The weapons fired projectiles, though not nearly as fast or as reliably as the Atlantean's weapons. It would have to do.

Vanrin nodded to Banat to enter the symbols for the ring, and when the blue pool had formed, he turned on the radio again. He cleared his throat and spoke with authority, "This is Vanrin, of the Tasiben."

After a moment of suspense, Chuck's voice replied hurriedly, "Vanrin, yes, we can't--"

"Chuck, I wish to speak not of the harvest, but of the power device." Vanrin had been trying all afternoon to remember how to pronounce the name, and he was afraid to get it wrong. Such a mistake might reveal the deception to the invaders, since presumably if he was trading such a thing he would know what it was called. "The power device of the Ancestors, of such great value to your city, which we offered your people in trade."

"Oh, that." Chuck sounded blank with surprise. Then he added helpfully, "The ZPM."

"Yes, the ZPM," Vanrin repeated, silently thanking Chuck. In case the listening captors needed any more convincing, he added, "We know your city will fall apart for lack of it."

Telani was translating for the others in a whisper. Shinabi clapped a hand over her eyes. Apparently she thought he was putting it on too thick.

"Just a second." There was a long silence. Then Chuck said, "Uh, can you send it through the gate?"

Vanrin took a deep breath to calm himself. _We guessed right, at least._ There had been some discussion that if the invaders had come to steal people or goods from Atlantis, they would not be interested in devices made by the Ancestors. But Vanrin and Banat had pointed out that in that case the invaders would surely have tried to trick the Tasiben into coming to Atlantis with Chuck's mythical grain harvest. And they simply did not know of anything else of value to offer. Corrigan and Rodney and the other scholars had spoken much of ZPMs and Atlantis' need for another; if someone wanted control of the city, surely he would want a ZPM as well. "No, we cannot do that. We wish to speak of our payment. We wish to speak to Major Sheppard. Here, on our own ground."

Chuck took this up immediately, saying, "Well, yes, because he's the one who made the deal for the ZPM with you, so of course you'd want to speak to him--" Chuck's effort to add to the deception was cut off again, and there was another silence. He came back on to say, "Major Sheppard can call you on the radio to discuss it--"

"No." Vanrin's heart was pounding harder with relief. _He lives._ If John was dead, if the invaders wanted to pretend he was alive in order to trade for the ZPM, he thought Chuck would have found some way to reveal it. "No, he must come here. This is too serious not to speak of it face to face. It is our custom. We will wait for him here."

Chuck was silent again for a short time. Then he cleared his throat and said, "Major Sheppard will be there soon."

Vanrin waited until the radio clicked off and the portal closed, before he said, "We can hope."

  
***

  
When they cut John down from the railing of the operations gallery, he was so numb he barely felt the impact from the ten foot fall. He lay there like a bag of laundry, his body a mass of needle-like pinpricks from returning circulation. John thought about trying something, but his wrists were still tightly bound with cords. And the Kerans still had guns on Grodin, Laroque, and Chuck, and the Athosian boy Ilar. _Just wait for it,_ he told himself. He just wished he knew what Vanrin had in mind.

That the Tasiben were trying to help them was a given, but John was sweating bullets wondering what it would be. The ideal thing would have been if Chuck had managed to casually pass along the gate address to the planet where Stackhouse and his team were on their mission, but the Kerans had cut Chuck off before he could work it into the conversation.

It at least made a change from sweating bullets thinking about what might happen if the Kerans managed to get through the lock-down into the rest of the city.

Alack, the Keran leader, kicked him, yelling, "Is this true? These people have something this city needs to work?"

"Yeah," John gasped. "It's true." He managed to roll over enough to squint up at Bates, still hanging from the gallery. Bates glared down at him with bleary ferocity. "They'll be expecting me and my men, so you'd better bring--"

"No." Alack kicked him in the back for punctuation, and the impact on John's abused muscles caused his brain to check out for a minute. When he snapped back to consciousness, a couple of Kerans were hauling Laroque and Grodin down the stairs. Alack said, "We will bring these two, and kill them if you try to escape."

"Uh huh," John said, because trying to reason with Alack had gotten him and Bates strung up on the operations gallery balcony a few hours ago, and he didn't want the others coming up with anything more creative for Bates and the four other captured Marines while he was gone.

Alack yelled orders at the others, and a group of fifteen Kerans formed up in front of the gate. At least John thought it was fifteen; his vision kept blurring. Then Alack ordered Chuck to dial, and reached down to drag John to his feet. "We will destroy you evil-doers," Alack snarled, "and use this city to destroy the Wraith!"

John swayed and managed to stay upright. "Damn, I wish we'd thought of that," he said, and got punched in the head.

As Alack dragged him toward the gate, John told himself to remember that the Tasiben had fought the heavily armed Isveni, that they knew to be careful of superior weaponry. He was still terrified on their behalf.

They stepped through the gate into a cool dark night, the dry dusty air of Tasiben. The rock formations surrounding the gate area were in deep shadow, any light from the starfield hidden by heavy clouds. The wormhole vanished, its vivid blue light flickering out, and John found himself near blind. The only thing visible were four Tasiben, standing about thirty yards away, holding torches. Two of them were Rani and Telani, and John heard startled indrawn breaths from some of the Kerans. Rani and Telani, wearing nothing but jewelry and torchlight, was an arresting sight, apparently even for guys who hated women as much as this bunch did.

Alack prodded John forward, saying, "Remember, one wrong word from you and the others die." Grodin and Laroque were at the back of the group, being dragged along by a couple of Alack's lieutenants.

"Right," John said absently, trying to listen. Their footsteps on the sandy ground covered any sound from the rocks. The Tasiben had to be all around them, and their eyes would be adjusted to the dark. That was when John realized there was something weird about the texture of the ground they were walking over. Then, with a loud crack, it collapsed under him.

The instant of warning helped, and the knowledge that the Tasiben wouldn't have had time to dig too deeply. John managed to take the three foot fall and land on his feet in the mass of sand and light wood that had covered the pit-trap. Alack and most of the Kerans tumbled and panicked. John whipped around, punched his bound hands into Alack's face and grabbed for the gun. The darkness around them was filled with confused shouts, gunfire, fighting bodies.

Alack rocked back but didn't let go of the gun. He twisted away and landed a punch on John's chest. Still trying to get a grip on the gun, John lunged forward and slammed into him, knocking Alack over the fallen body behind him, managing to land with his knee in Alack's groin. Alack finally let go of the damn gun, and John wrenched it away and hit him across the head with the butt. He started to shove to his feet, but a Keran loomed up over him, swinging his rifle like a club. John ducked back, but it caught him a glancing blow to the shoulder and he fell backward.

The guy lifted the rifle again. Tasting blood from a cut lip, John struggled to sit up, unable to get any leverage with his bound hands, he couldn't--

Then the guy jerked and stiffened, collapsing slowly sideways, a crossbow bolt in his neck. Vanrin's voice called, "John!"

John slumped in relief. His whole body was one massive ache, and that had been before the fight. "Here," he managed to croak. "Just thought I'd drop by."

The pit was suddenly full of Tasiben with torches, hurriedly collecting the weapons, dragging Kerans aside. John realized the woman leaning anxiously over him was Shinabi, and he held up his hands so she could slice away the bindings. "It's really good to see you guys," he said, sincerely. The cords had ground so hard into his wrists John had to pull them off, and the air hitting the raw abraded skin made him wince.

Shinabi replied wryly in the Tasiben language, then called to someone over her shoulder. She took John's arm and steadied him as he shoved to his feet. John swayed, still a little stunned from the blow to the face. Someone caught his shoulders and Vanrin said, "We must stop meeting like this."

"Uh huh. It's upsetting the kids." John just wanted to lean against Vanrin's chest, but he didn't have the time. He looked for Laroque and Grodin, saw both of them being helped up out of the pit. They looked shaky, but unhurt. John took a deep breath, pulling himself back together. "I've got to go to work."

Vanrin nodded. "How can we help? I admit, our plan goes no further than this. We could not think of how to enter Atlantis without assistance from within."

"Yeah, that's the tough part." John looked around again, trying to focus. The Tasiben were still dragging the dead or wounded Kerans out of the pit trap. The live ones were lying on the ground, under guard. He looked down at Alack, who was glaring beadily up at him. Alack himself was probably too tough and too crazy to crack readily. But his younger lieutenants might not be. "But now we've got these guys."

Bleeding from the cut across his head, Alack sneered up at John. "More of your allies, kouras?"

"They're actually my in-laws. It's a great story, but you're not going to be around long enough to hear it." John already had a plan; Stackhouse's team was on PX6-201, surveying an Ancient ruin. They weren't due back for another thirty-eight hours, but John had been sweating this all day, watching the time tick by until Stackhouse's next check-in, terrified the Kerans would get the idea to lure the team back to Atlantis to kill them. "Can somebody see if he's got my radio?"

Telani translated, pointing emphatically at Alack, and three women pounced on him, dragging him away.

"What is this name that he calls you?" Vanrin asked, lifting a brow as he looked after Alack. "Not that I have not reason enough to kill him already."

"It means Wraith worshipper." John started to make his way to the edge of the pit, a hand on Vanrin's arm to steady himself. "When Elizabeth called them over the comm system and tried to negotiate with them, they realized we had a woman leader. They know Wraith have queens, so therefore, everybody who has a woman for a leader must be a Wraith worshipper."

Vanrin shook his head, appalled. "But that is madness."

"Yeah, Bates and I had that conversation with them." John slipped in the loose sand at the edge of the pit, and Vanrin gave him a boost from behind. "It didn't work out like we hoped."

"I think we have been lucky," Vanrin said, stepping up to the side of the pit with John.

John just hoped their luck held out.

  
***

  
It didn't surprise Vanrin that John was able to terrify the Kerans into submission. Vanrin's reputation among the deep desert people had risen greatly, for they were very wary of John and of Vanrin for having such a dangerous lover.

John also refused to let the Tasiben fight for them when they went to re-take the city. Vanrin argued, but he knew that John would not be persuaded on that point. And perhaps he was right; the Tasiben were not accustomed to fighting in the way of the Atlanteans, and confusion in such a situation would be very dangerous.

Stackhouse and his men came through the ring at John's call, and they had with them one of the jumpers, the flying ships. Dr. Corrigan was with them, but John told him to stay behind with Grodin and the woman called Laroque, and said they would return for them when the city was safe. Then John dialed Atlantis and forced one of the Kerans to call the others on the radio, and to say that all was well.

Then John and the other warriors went through the ring, and there was nothing to do but wait. Vanrin tried not to think of how vulnerable John had looked, bruised and hollow-eyed, the way he moved showing he was in pain.

Vanrin knew that unless things changed, that someday he would lose John, probably in a situation very like this. Unfortunately the things that would have to change to prevent it -- the Wraith's destruction, the Atlanteans finally obtaining help from their powerful homeworld -- were not under anyone's control.

Knowing that did not help.

In an effort to give them all something to do, Vanrin tried to get the other Atlanteans to go to the ring garrison's cave, where they could rest in more comfort, but like him they were too anxious to leave the vicinity of the ring. So back among the rocks, Banat had the young men make a large fire, and the others not occupied with guarding the ring brought furs to sit on.

"What happened?" Corrigan asked, once they were settled. "How did they get into the city?"

Grodin rubbed his eyes, as if he wished he could forget something he had seen. "A small Athosian party had gone to M23-890. There's a large settlement there that they've been acquainted with for years--"

Corrigan was nodding. "Yes, the Aran-dai, they're a hunting and gathering community."

"They were due back today, we received their IDC--" Grodin took a sharp breath. "I spoke to Kaetha, one of the Athosians, on the radio. She was calm, she sounded normal. But when they came through it was these men, the Kerans, thirty of them. God knows what they did to her. She wasn't with them. They came in shooting, and they had two other Athosians, Samra and Ilar, as hostages. There was shooting, but I was pinned down behind a console, I'm not exactly sure what happened."

Laroque stirred and said, "The security team held them off, and Dr. Weir, and everyone on the upper end of the control gallery, managed to get to the transporter or the stairs. I think some of them got out through the jumper bay, also. But the rest of us were cut off." She shivered. "Major Sheppard and Sergeant Bates tried to block the stairs, but the Kerans held a gun to Ilar's head -- Ilar is only twelve, if that. They had to surrender. Then the Kerans killed Samra. I think he tried to get one of their weapons."

"The security team had locked down the gate room by that point," Grodin said. "So it was a stand-off. The Kerans kept threatening to shoot us. Dr. Weir spoke to them on the comm system, trying to negotiate, but that just seemed to make them go mad. They kept trying to open the doors, they kept pressing controls on the consoles -- I think that's what sealed off the jumper bay, so the others couldn't try to get to us through it."

Laroque winced. "They hung Major Sheppard and Sergeant Bates off the gate room balcony by their wrists."

Telani translated it all in a hushed voice. Vanrin did not want to hear anymore.

Corrigan shared out the food he carried in his bag; some of the younger men and women tried small pieces, though Vanrin knew from his time in Atlantis that it was too rich for his taste. And they waited.

Time passed in slow agony, and Vanrin was sure most of the night had gone, except that Corrigan's time-keeping device assured everyone that it had not. Then the ring began to come alive, revealing Atlantis' address.

They took guard positions, but then Corrigan's radio sputtered with sound. He listened intently, then said in relief, "It's okay, they're clear."

  
***

  
With the Kerans in the gate room dealt with, John took Stackhouse and a large group of the security team to Aran-dai, to retrieve the Athosians still being held prisoner there. When he got back, he climbed slowly down the stairs from the jumper bay, feeling like an old man. An old man with a serious back problem.

The gate room was a confusion of Marines, techs trying to put the place back together, and Tasiben. John saw Vanrin and Shinabi and a few of the others talking to Elizabeth and Corrigan. Rodney was working on one of the damaged consoles, and Bates was collapsed in a chair nearby. John wondered if he looked as bad as Bates did. Probably it was about even; Bates had gotten punched in the head a lot, too.

As John limped down the operations gallery, Rodney, with the air of someone delivering the last straw of bad news, swung his chair around and told him, "We were lucky. One of the Kerans had the Ancient gene."

John stopped, staring at him. "What?"

Bates nodded grimly. "That's what I said."

In all the confusion, John had somehow managed to miss that detail. It scared the hell out of him. _Alack, with access to the ATA, loose in Atlantis_. It was a horrifying thought. "I thought Carson decided it had to be rare in Pegasus."

"It is, but rare doesn't mean absent. The diagnostic recorded the access, and the gene scan doesn't match any of us." Rodney waved a hand at the screen, exasperated. "That's probably what caused the glitch that kept Ford and his group from being able to get into the gate room from the jumper bay, why I couldn't get the damn doors open. When the Kerans were hitting controls at random, one of them must have accidentally accessed the ATA. With the emergency lockdown in place, the city couldn't resolve the conflict, so it took the gate room door system offline."

John let his breath out. He had known something had been badly wrong when nobody had tried to get into the gate room from the jumper bay; it was the designated point for a team to get in and re-take the tower. "One gene ordering the doors to open, all the others telling them to stay shut?"

"Something like that." Rodney looked up at John, guilty and still exasperated. "Ford and Teyla thought that if we tried to open the doors manually, the Kerans would have time to kill all of you. They were working on a distraction."

"They were right, Rodney," John told him. He knew they had been lucky to get out of this with only a few casualties. Bates tried to nod agreement, then winced in pain and slumped back in his chair.

That was the point where Elizabeth walked up, Vanrin trailing casually after her. She asked pointedly, "John, can you lift your arms over your head?"

John tried with his left arm, and even with the handful of anti-inflammatories he had already taken, the effort left him grimacing. He admitted, "Not just at the moment."

She said, "Then you're off duty for the next twelve hours. At least."

"Bates isn't off-duty," John pointed out, trying to deflect attention.

"Bates is waiting for a stretcher to go to the infirmary," Elizabeth countered. "Do you want a stretcher too?"

"That's not fair," John protested.

"I will make sure he goes off-duty," Vanrin volunteered. John started to think that maybe going off-duty wasn't a bad idea.

Rodney rolled his eyes. "What, do you want to get him high and draw pagan symbols on him? Again?"

Bates stared grimly at Rodney. "I thought we all agreed that we weren't going to talk about that in front of me."

Then Elizabeth chivied them all off the operations gallery.

  
***

  
They stopped by the infirmary, so John could check in with Beckett and get an initial report on the condition of the wounded, and submit to the indignity of a shot of muscle relaxant in the ass. Then they started down to John's quarters.

"I have heard some of what happened," Vanrin said, watching him with concern. "They told us you went to the planet where the Kerans came from?"

John nodded. "The one the Athosians were visiting. The Kerans didn't live there. We're still not sure why they hit that place. They'd killed everybody in the camp nearest the gate, so there weren't a lot of witnesses left. We know they killed the three Athosian women in the group, and they drugged Kaetha to get her IDC. To get to us."

Vanrin was silent for a few steps, shaking his head in dismay. "This city must seem a great prize, to people who are mad with greed." He waved a hand at a bubble pillar. "But how did they expect to run these machines?"

"I guess they thought if we can do it, anybody can. And one of them had the Ancient gene, though I don't know if they realized that, or it was just a coincidence." John rubbed his gritty eyes. He was covered with grime and sweat, and sore all over, and had to re-think their whole gate room security system. This model had worked for the SGC, but the SGC didn't have to accommodate Athosians who were used to free access to their gate whenever they wanted it. He remembered he was supposed to be explaining what had happened to Vanrin, and continued, "Or they were going to keep some of us to run it for them. I don't know. I don't get the idea that they thought this through too well."

"Perhaps that is for the best." Vanrin's look was thoughtful. "What was done with them, the Kerans?"

John hesitated. "I was going to find a planet with a broken DHD to dump them on, someplace only accessible by jumper. But when I saw what they'd done to that camp and the Athosians, I let the other Aran-dai have them." He added, shortly, "They're dead now."

Vanrin just said, "That was both fitting, and necessary."

John's door opened for him as soon as they got within range. He groaned in relief, then winced as he shed his tac vest and jacket. Even with the muscle relaxants, his shoulders and neck were still painfully stiff.

"You sleep here?" Vanrin sounded surprised. On his last visit to Atlantis, they had still technically been broken up, so he hadn't seen John's room.

"Yeah." John looked around vaguely. The bedside table and makeshift filing cabinet were made out of crates, and the bed and table-desk were Ancient hand-me-downs. And yes, it was small, but all the rooms along this corridor, the most convenient to the operations tower, were small. "What? You live in a cave."

"My cave is larger than this."

"I have an attached bathroom," John felt compelled to point out. "Some people have to go down the hall."

Vanrin lifted his brows. "One of the little rooms, with the running water?"

"Uh huh."

"Show it to me."

John thought that sounded like a great idea.

  
***

  
It was an even better idea when Vanrin backed John into the shower, pinned him against the tile wall, cupped his face and kissed him roughly. The Ancient plumbing, searching for physiological indicators through the ATA, warmed the tiles and carefully adjusted the heat of the water until John's locked muscles started to relax. John's clothes were rapidly soaked, and he wished he had taken a moment to get his boots off, but it was too late now. And Vanrin was kissing John like he had to do it to get oxygen. "You were a little worried?" John managed to gasp.

"My favorite lover is a dangerous man, with dangerous enemies." Vanrin was forcefully nuzzling his throat, and tugging John's pants open. "It causes some strain."

"Have I met this guy?" Vanrin was lifting him up a little, and John took advantage of it to bite his ear.

"And then there is his sense of humor."

John was drunk on hot water and warm skin, and when they slid down the wall to the floor, the shower adjusted to a light warm mist, possibly to keep from drowning them. John was sated, exhausted, his body boneless from the drugs. Between that and the steam and the gentle heat from the floor, he could have melted into a puddle with the water.

Vanrin felt the bathroom floor was comfortable enough, but John knew any longer down here and he wouldn't be able to move. "I have to get up. I'm too old to fuck on the bathroom floor."

"You have implied before that your youth was misspent," Vanrin said, and carefully helped him to his feet.

Without the hot water, John's muscles were starting to lock up again. Moving very slowly, he peeled off what was left of his wet clothes, dried off, then managed to pull on a t-shirt and sweatpants. The feel of fresh clothing against clean skin was another nice reminder that he wasn't dead.

When he came out of the bathroom, Vanrin said, "Is that all you are sleeping in?" He was sitting on the bed and paging curiously through _War and Peace_. "Surely revealing your bare arms is very shocking."

"Ha, ha." John had meant to put on socks but had just discovered he couldn't bend over that far. "It gets cold in here at night."

"You are such a delicate flower."

"I thought I was dangerous." John sunk into the bed, feeling about as dangerous as a paraplegic. "Oof." That was it, no more moving until the next dose of muscle relaxants.

"A delicate, dangerous flower," Vanrin said, complacently.

Okay, John was giving up on that conversation. "How long can you stay?"

Vanrin closed the book and reached over John to put it back on the bedside table. Still leaning over him, he said, "I will go and search for Shinabi and the others. They were going to speak with Corrigan and the other archeologists. If they wish to stay longer, I will come back here and ravish you again."

"Promises, promises." John yawned.

Vanrin looked up at the poster above John's bed. "This is a significant person on your world?"

"Yes, it is." John took deep satisfaction in the fact that Rodney was not here to contradict him.

"Your images are very realistic." Vanrin watched him for a moment, his expression serious. "Are there any of you?"

"Yes," John admitted warily. "Not that big. Why?"

"I would like one."

There was an unspoken _in case something happens to you_ on the end of that sentence. John already had photos of Vanrin, the archeology team had taken tons of all the Tasiben, along with DV. "Okay. I can do that," John said, and there wasn't much more to say.

  
**end**

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Connections [Podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1864116) by [librarychick_94](https://archiveofourown.org/users/librarychick_94/pseuds/librarychick_94)




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